


The Godfather

by Unadulterated



Series: War and Death Aren't Synonyms (but they're not antonyms either) [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Aphrodite Cabin gossips way to much, Gen, do any demigods make it more than one year in the same school?, the tale of broken incest meters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unadulterated/pseuds/Unadulterated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Nico and Clarisse are everything to each other – ew, no, not like that. Ignore Aphrodite’s Cabin. Of course, Jade and Aiden are pretty close to being their ‘everything’ too, but kids don’t count.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Godfather

**Author's Note:**

> I am sooo sorry this took so long to get up. I had all these ideas for this story and then I got ideas for other fics to write, then I came back to Godfather and realized the structure wasn’t working. Then my editor bugged me about it so I took another shot at it, got a scene in and stopped again. I kept almost abandoning the idea and then I’d get lovely review to Come What May by lovely readers who couldn’t wait for Godfather to be published… And then I went on vacation. And now I’m deciding I should finally get my butt into gear.
> 
> So, I give you the first installment of The Godfather! (Thanks to you, reviewers. You too, April Joy. XD)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything you recognize. The twins are of my creation.

“ _Duck_!” Jade screams.

Which, of course, makes Aiden looks at her in complete confusion instead. He gets walloped upside the head by one of the haywire automatons and hits the wall hard enough to probably have a concussion, but he is absolutely one hundred percent not dead. She would know if he was.

Jade is forced to follow her own advice and drops to her knees as an automaton swings a long marble-looking limb in her direction. Not his own—he must have ripped it off one of the more normally functioning automatons. So now there is one less sane robot in an apparent robot uprising. Fantastic.

The museum is _so_ going to sue.

Jade rolls out of the way as the automaton strikes again, this time straight down to hit the floor where she just was hard enough to crack the tiling. Scrambling to her feet, Jade sprints closer to Aiden, all the way across the room. Another automaton takes a swing and she slides under it like a baseball player coming into home base, coming up right next to her twin brother.

Mom’s checklist: 1. Keep each other safe.

Through the mess that is now the cavernous halls in this museum, Jade can pick out a place or two where Aiden would be a lot safer, unconscious as he is, than where he lay on the floor in a heap. She loops her arms under his armpits and hauls him to the closest one, tucking him under a fallen piece of archway that looks stable enough. She hopes, anyway.

Next order of business: 2. Keep as many mortals safe as you can, but _don’t_ get yourself killed.

Jade is pretty sure Mom wouldn’t put her own life above that of a few mortals, but she is also pretty sure this is one of those ‘you’re too young’ things. One she doesn’t mind, either; saving mortals is great and all, but she’d rather not go meet dear old dad for eternity at age nine.

Now that Aiden is safe, Jade lets herself hear the other screams in the building and the utter chaos that the automatons bring with them as they storm around the museum’s halls. Her limbs are shaking now, adrenaline taking control now that Aiden is as safe as he can get for the moment, and she doesn’t know how to help anyone else without getting killed. She wants to run; Mom’s supposed to be here. She’s the accomplished monster-fighter, and Jade is just a nine-year-old girl.

 _And a daughter of Hades_ , she reminds herself. After a deep breath, she darts back into the melee and just tries getting people out of the way.

In about thirty seconds she figures out that the automatons are more interested in killing her than any of the mortals, and hence figures they’ll be safer if she gets out of the way. That doesn’t work very well either. She’s tired, her legs are shaking, and her heart-rate is still going crazy. She’s not _supposed_ to be fighting monsters alone. Her first Stygian iron sword isn’t even going to be hers until her next birthday—if she lives that long.

Which she won’t. She’s against a wall, an automaton standing directly in front of her, and her mind has gone white with terror. Even if there _is_ a way out of this, she’s too scared to see it.

It raises a stone arm and Jade squeezes her eyes shut. She won’t watch. She can’t.

Then there’s a strange mechanical whine, and nothing comes down to smash her skull. After what seems like an eternity but lasts only about ten seconds, Jade dares to open her eyes.

The automaton is frozen in place, apparently deactivated. Like a tidal wave, relief comes crashing down on Jade and he breath comes in short spurts as her eyes sting. But she won’t cry, not here, not yet, not until she _knows_ everything is going to be okay.

Closer to the doors, she sees a familiar figure with curly blond hair. Aunt Annabeth waggles her fingers in Jade’s direction with a smile. Jade grins back so wide her lips feel like they’re stretching—of _course_ she would be the one capable of shutting them down. What she is doing near the museum was a question for another time. Annabeth jabs a thumb over her shoulder to the door behind and mouths, _I have to go._ And then she does. Probably another architectural convention, or she’s almost late for one of the classes she teaches at some college Jade can never be bothered to remember the name of.

But wherever she’s going, Jade knows that if Annabeth turned off the automatons, they’ll stay off. So her legs finally turn into jelly and she slides to the floor, hands shaking so much she tucks them under her armpits to stop it. Her eyes close and she just _feels_ , her throat choked up simply by the fact that she can still feel Aiden’s life in the back of her mind.

When she opens her eyes again, she sees that _stinker_ the assistant principal staring at her coldly, and just knows they’re going to get expelled.

Again.

For something that wasn’t their fault, as per usual.

Still giddy to be alive, Jade almost giggles as she wonders who’s going to swear more: Mom or Nico.

 

* * *

 

Mom does, but not until after they clear the principal’s office. Nico manages a very impressive straight face at the footage of Jade pushing Aiden into a statue and the touch of a half-blood accidentally triggering the automaton mechanism. It really is pretty funny to watch, especially Aiden’s face when the old Greek statue comes to life. (Her expression, on the other hand, isn’t that funny. No, really.)

But mortals being mortals, they probably see the video as something like Jade shoving a bomb into his hand to put by the statue and half the museum gets blown up because of _that_. Of course. Why people would think Jade would willingly endanger her twin is something she just doesn’t get—unless he spray-painted her leather jacket lime green again, in which case he’d better run for the hills.

Aiden is holding together a good straight face too, where he sits next to her. He spent a day in the hospital to make sure he wasn’t critically injured after his collision with a wall, but Jade suspects Nico wasn’t necessarily being sarcastic when he said Aiden’s skull is thicker than the average rhinoceros’s.

Mom isn’t so good at keeping her straight face. A snicker escapes, small but unfortunately audible. The assistant principal scowls at her and Mom glares back, but the principal looks like he agrees with his assistant.

“This is not a humorous occasion, Ms. LaRue,” he says coldly.

“Their faces did look pretty funny,” Nico supplies, which probably doesn’t help, but he’s definitely the most collected adult there. It takes a lot to faze Nico when he’s got a reason to stay serious. “Well, before everything—“ He makes a indistinct waving gesture with wiggling fingers. It’s intentionally vague; as they don’t know what the mortals are seeing, it’s best not to give them any ideas.

Jade watches in fascination as the assistant principal’s face turns colors like a traffic light: from his usual weird orangey color suggesting a fake tan to bright red. “The museum could _sue_ for this, Mr. LaRue—“

“Di Angelo,” Nico corrects, utterly unruffled.

“—Mr. di Angelo,” he growls. “And you’re—you’re sitting here like this kind of terrorism is _funny_.”

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. Mom looks about to say something, but a discreet movement from Nico makes her shut up. He’s the better diplomat of the two, and if any further incident is to be avoided it better be him talking.

“Terrorism?” Nico echoes stonily. “You call this an act of terrorism? This explosion may have accidentally been set off by my kids but they _certainly_ would not do such a thing intentionally.”

Jade and Aiden share a quick glance at the words ‘my kids’. It’s a little white lie they never get tired of hearing. Nico might just be their much older brother and also their godfather, but he and Mom got tired years ago of trying to explain why the twins look more like him than Mom if he’s not actually the dad. Now they say they just… never got married—awkward, but easiest. Jade well knows that their familial situation is not anything approaching normal by the standards of the mortal world. Immortal parents tend to create these kind of situations.

But, personally? Jade would kind of prefer it if Nico were her dad. He’s actually _there_ when she needs him. And he makes Mom smile, while Dad only makes her sad now.

The principal frowns. “Are you trying to claim they are _not_ at fault when we have recorded video saying they are?” He sounds frankly disbelieving, and his assistant backs him up with a glower at Nico.

Nico isn’t fazed. He just gives them a tight little smile. “I’d suggest reviewing the tapes for whoever planted that, because it most certainly wasn’t Jade or Aiden.” Jade hears the snap of his fingers, loud and clear, and she can’t help but hold her breath as the sensation of wind sweeps past them. Goosebumps spring up on her arms and she tries not to shiver; the Mist always gives her the chills, and Aiden always teases her about it.

The principal and assistant principal blink owlishly for a moment or two. Mom looks smug, but quickly schools her expression as the men come back to themselves.

“Of course,” the principal says carefully. “We don’t mean to point fingers like that. But you must see how your children’s track record is.”

Which is another big issue, and the reason the assistant principal is _still_ giving the stink-eye even though he’s now been convinced he’s not in the same room as a pair of juvenile terrorists. Jade and Aiden can’t help it if they have dyslexia, ADHD, and general difficulty with caring much at all for anything school related when they’ve got monsters trashing their home every other month. Being Ares’ grandkids makes tempers quick to flare and fights break out a lot. Add that to the penchant toward grudges so often found in Hades’ children?

Yeah. Jade’s pretty sure none of her teachers—past or present—have ever really liked her.

By the quick Look Mom shares with Nico, they get the picture loud and clear. And everyone knows where this meeting is going to go very quickly.

Sure enough, Jade and Aiden walk out of the room officially expelled. Again.

“Someday,” Nico mutters as he shuts the door behind him, “we’re going to last more than a year at a school. Okay? _Someday_.”

Mom rolls her eyes. “Tell that to the Fates. At least they didn’t get arrested.” They show themselves out, as always with afterschool meeting with the principal in his office, and the secretary gives Mom and Nico identical supremely unimpressed looks as they pass. Jade sticks her tongue out, because no one disses her family. Unless she’s getting expelled again, in which case it’s best to shut up and let it pass even when it makes her see red.

“Why doesn’t Ms. Hansen like you?” Aiden asks Nico once they’re outside. It’s a good question. Nico hasn’t flirted with the woman or anything and Mom doesn’t even talk to her, so the secretary’s bad mood is a bit of a mystery.

“Our last names,” Nico sighs. “She thinks they shouldn’t be different.”

Which is a euphemism, but Jade knows what he means. Ever since she started school and Nico started pretending to be her dad, there have been teachers who look down on them for not having matching rings on their left hands. But Mom’s last name is _hers_ and so now it’s Jade’s and Aiden’s, and Nico wouldn’t change his in a million years.

“Why don’t you just use the line things?” Mom and Nico give her blank looks, so she draws a line in the air for visual effect. “You know, like Piper McLean-Grace?” Piper was a very pretty lady from Camp and probably the only Aphrodite girl ever who didn’t turn her nose up at Ares kids or mind getting her hands dirty.

“LaRue-di Angelo sounds really weird,” Mom grumbles. “Plus, paperwork. Ugh. Let sleeping hellhounds lie and all.”

“And I’m pretty sure you have to get married for something like that,” Nico muses.

Jade feels a rush of triumph and makes a ta-da gesture with her hands. “So get married!”

Nico does a double take and stares at her like she’s grown a second head. Mom shudders visibly and shakes her head like she’s dispelling a particularly nasty thought. Aiden snickers.

“No way in Hades,” Mom growls.

Nico grimaces. “Yeah, that’s not exactly a viable solution.”

Jade huffs. “But _everyone_ says it. At Camp, at school, Aunt Annabeth and Uncle Percy… I bet Nemo agrees too!”

“Nemo got himself covered in harpy feathers on his last birthday,” Nico says levelly. “I’m pretty sure that disqualifies him from any valid opinion.”

Jade privately agrees—Sherman, or Nemo as they always call him, acts younger than her even though he’s more than a year older, and Aunt Annabeth always claims that it’s Percy’s genes coming through. But her argument still stands.

“Wouldn’t it be easier?” Aiden coaxes. He’s saying mostly to get a rise out of them, of course. He thinks Jade’s fantasy of being a flower girl in the wedding is just silly, but Jade is smitten with it so she doesn’t really care _why_ he’s helping her case.

“No,” Mom snaps. “Definitely, definitely not. I am _not_ giving into those Aphrodite morons.”

“Piper’s not a moron,” Jade mutters. Mom rolls her eyes but surprisingly doesn’t refute the claim. Apparently she finally accepted Piper’s apology for the pink silk incident. “Why won’t you just get married?” Jade pouts, stamping her foot on the ground. Nico gives her a raised eyebrow that says very clearly he thinks she’s too old for that. She frowns harder and he sighs.

“It’s—it would be awkward. I mean, you wouldn’t want to kiss Aiden, right?” Nico tries.

Aiden gags. Jade is unimpressed. “Ew, duh. But this isn’t the same,” she insists.

“Not exactly,” Mom concedes, “but it would still be really awkward.”

“I’m your brother,” Nico points out. “We share a dad. Marrying Clarisse would make me your brother _and_ your stepdad, which is just—“ He shudders instead of trying to explain what exactly it would be.

At this, Jade and Aiden blink and share a long look, like a silent conversation. At the end of it, they’re both still a little baffled.

“So?” Jade ventures. Aiden just shrugs.

Nico stares at them incredulously and then rolls his eyes as he casts his gaze over to Mom. “I think their internal incest meter is broken,” he says drily.

“With a family like ours?” Mom says, amused. “I don’t think it ever worked in the first place.”

“And _whose_ fault is that?”

 

* * *

 

“So,” Nico says, once Jade and Aiden have been put to bed, “that actually could have gone a lot worse.”

Clarisse snorts. “I guess. At least we won’t need to post bail or anything. Nice move with the Mist, by the way—I didn’t know we could do that with videos.”

Nico shrugs. “Just their perception of the videos. Hopefully there’s enough lingering Mist that the same story will hook onto anyone they talk to.”

They’re quiet for a minute. Nico pulls open the fridge to absently look for something to eat, then closes it again as there’s nothing convenient and he’s not actually hungry, anyway. When he looks up again, Clarisse is scowling. Not about the Mist, Nico knows.

“For the record, I’m not marrying you no matter what your daughter seems to think,” Nico clarifies.

“Good,” Clarisse sighs. “Not that I think you ever would. It’s been years, I mean, and—yeah. I don’t think pretending you _are_ the dad makes it any easier, though.”

“Hey,” Nico protests, folding his arms over his chest. Clarisse is _so_ not pinning the blame for that on him. “It’s not _my_ fault the kids look like me. You’re the one who went and hooked up with my dad, and seriously, making out in the living room? Really?” That had been the time when Nico realized his dad was sending him out on wild goose chases to look for souls that weren’t actually escaped—getting him out of the way so Hades could have some quality time with Clarisse. The fallout had been epic.

Clarisse glares and sets her hands on her hips. “That was _one_ time—“

“That I _saw_.”

“—and that was years ago! I haven’t even seen him in ages!”

Which is a big reason why Nico was still around. But still. “Still scarring. _Permanently_ scarring. I did _not_ need to _ever_ see my best friend making out my _dad_ , keep your business there to yourself.”

“I would it you’d _let_ me,” Clarisse snaps. Nico has made his point and doesn’t pursue it any further, so she subsides as well.

“But Jaden’s suggestion is ridiculous. Why do we let them hang around Percy and Annabeth again?” Nico whines. ‘Jaden’ is what they call the twins together. It’s easier than saying ‘the twins,’ seeing as there’s about three sets at Camp these days, and Nico thinks it’s funny. Clarisse used to like it, up until Jaden realized they could ignore their mother’s call by pretending they’d heard the other’s name, and not their own.

“Because otherwise Annabeth would make _us_ do all the school-related paperwork,” Clarisse grumbles. “Including finding a new place after they get expelled every year.”

There’s a short, heavy silence at the reminder. Both are thinking something along the lines of: _Why me?_

“From now on,” Nico declares, “We’re chaperoning. _Every_ fieldtrip. This is the third time something like this has happened.”

Clarisse grunts, but it’s a grunt of agreement, not dismissal. “You’re taking the first shift,” she tells him. Nico scowls, but he’s willing enough.

After all, it’s going to be a little tricky to find a school where they don’t yet know of the infamous LaRue twins.


End file.
